


Rest

by JayceCarter



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: After Nora undergoes surgery, Preston is there to help her.





	Rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadySora13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySora13/gifts).



> For my dear friend LadySora13. I hope you're getting better, love! I left this PG since I didn't want you getting excited while recovering, but if you wanted me to add in smut, just let me know and I'll write you a second chapter ;)

Nora woke, a whine on her lips at the pressure in her abdomen. She couldn’t remember how she’d got there, or where there even was. The only thing she could focus on was the pain in her abdomen, dulled enough she was sure someone had given her med-x.

 

She could kiss whoever that had been.

 

“Easy, Nora,” came Preston’s steady voice.

 

“Did I eat Deacon’s cooking again? No one ever let him cook again.”

 

Fingers stroked through Nora’s hair, pushing it from her forehead. “No. For once, you can’t blame Deacon for this. Don’t you remember?”

 

Nora leaned into the touch of Preston’s fingers and tried. She remembered eating dinner with Deacon and MacCready. She remembered going to bed with Preston, remembered how they’d made love by the glow that poured through the window from the street lights.

 

That was it.

 

No, wait. She remembered her stomach hurting. Remembered Preston talking about a fever.

 

“I was sick?”

 

“Yeah. We called for Dr. Sun. By the time he got here, we couldn’t wake you up anymore. You were running a fever, crying, holding your stomach.”

 

“So it _was_ Deacon’s food.”

 

A soft laugh before his cool palm pressed against her cheek. “Much like I always believed, the only thing that can bring you to your knees is yourself. Your appendix had to be removed.”

 

“Did someone at least put it in a pretty jar? I’ll give it to Strong and tell him it’s the milk of human kindness.” Nora risked opening eyes, met with the one face she wanted to see.

 

Preston smiled despite the way his eyes had sunk in, despite the lines beside his lips that showed the stress. She knew that face, the smile he gave no matter the lack of sleep, no matter the stress on his shoulders.

 

Preston didn’t give into stress, didn’t give into all he carried for everyone else. He’d still offer her a smile, still shoulder anything he could for her. Right then? It was by hiding his worry, by hiding the way his night by her side wore on him.

 

She didn’t recognize the room at first. It wasn’t her house, not the one she shared with Preston. It took a moment for her to realize she was in the clinic they’d set up in the house at the far end.

 

“You could just give it to him and tell him it’s a snack,” he said, the rare joke showing how rattled he was. 

 

Nora sat up, the movement slow. Preston’s hand supported her back, taking some of the work from her. Still, by the time she’d sat all the way up, sweat rolled down her face and her breathing came in stuttering waves, broken by gasps.

 

Preston never let her go, however. He took all the weight he could, trying to keep her muscles from doing any more work than they had to. “Almost there,” he whispered to her, a string of encouragement.

 

Once upright in the bed, he placed the pillow behind her, against the wall, so she could lean back against it. He reached for a can of water beside the bed, then helped her drink it.

 

After she’d finished it, when Preston set the empty can on the nightstand, she reached out and grasped his hand. “Were you here all night?”

 

“No.”

 

“Sorry to say it, but you look like shit.”

 

“You have the nicest way with words.” He laced his fingers with hers.

 

“I’m not letting you weasel your way out of this. How long have you been by my side?”

 

Preston didn’t lie. It was one of his unfailing truths. He might avoid a question, but he’d never lie to her. It just meant she had to nail him to the wall and force him to answer.

 

“Almost twenty hours. The surgery took a while, and you’ve been out since then.”

 

“Fucking hell, Preston. Go home and lie down.”

 

“I’m not leaving you.”

 

Nora squeezed his hand. “I’m fine, and you can’t sit here and just wait for me to get better. You've got a lot of things to do. You did your watch, you were here, now go-“

 

Preston placed both hands on her cheeks and leaned in to press his forehead against hers. “-I could have lost you, Nora. I couldn’t wake you up, had to just hold you while Deacon went for the doctor. You are insane if you think I am leaving you even for a second.”

 

Nora tilted her head enough to brush her lips against his. “I’m sorry to worry you, but I’m fine. You’re not doing anyone any good by staying here.”

 

“I’m doing myself good. There is nowhere I’d rather be than right here.”

 

She went to open her mouth to argue, but the press of his lips silenced her.

 

He pulled back but kept his hands on her face so she looked into his eyes, the ones she knew better than her own. “I stayed with the Quincy survivors all the way here. I never left them, no matter what. If you think I’d do less for you, for the woman I love, then you don’t know me at all. I’m not going back to my bed until you’re there with me. Understand me?”

 

Nora smiled at the edge in his voice, the one he got when people pushed him too far, when he dug his heels in. “You know, maybe when I’m feeling better, you can use that commanding voice on me again. I think I like it when you tell me what to do.”

 

He chuckled before offered one more kiss, a gentle one this time, then stood. “Get better and I’ll do anything you want me to, babe.” He grabbed a book from the shelf before settling in beside her. He opened the book on his lap and began to read.

 

Nora eased into the sound of his voice, into the steady familiarity of it. After so much change, after so many losses, Preston’s voice was the last thread of stability for her. He was the thing that would always be there.

 

After fifteen minutes, Preston’s voice slowed, then stopped. He leaned over, his shoulder bumping into Nora. His head lolled to the side as exhaustion took him.

 

Nora shifted until she could set her head on his chest, curling into his heat. He’d stood watch for her for twenty hours; she could do the same for him.

 

The rest of the world would bother them soon enough. It would trample through the door, demanding their time, their heartache, their blood. It would trash these quiet moments, the ones when they got to pretend to just be the two of them and turn them back into what the wasteland needed instead of what one another needed.

 

So, until that happened, Nora pressed a kiss to his chest and settled in. They’d both earned some rest.  


End file.
